REVIEW: Billy Elliot

Review of the September 25 matinee performance at the Imperial Theatre on Broadway in New York City. 2 hours, 45 minutes, including one intermission. Starring Myles Erlick, Emily Skinner, Daniel Jenkins, Katherine McGrath, Cameron Clifford and Patrick Mulvey. Music by Elton John. Book and lyrics by Lee Hall. Choreography by Peter Darling. Directed by Stephen Daldry.  Closes January 8.


Grade: B-

These days, the Elliot household is a loud, angry place. Everyone in it is screaming to be heard - above the din of dreams dashed, above the cacophony of social and economic upheaval, and above the deafening silence of loss. As performed by the current, and as it turns out, final, Broadway company, there are far fewer grey areas in the plot.  You know very clearly who is on which side. No, it is a black and white world over at Billy Elliot. And while it makes the plight of the British miners somewhat easier to understand without some pre-show history review, it somewhat diminishes the emotional impact of the show in general, and of the journey of the whole Elliot clan specifically. And that is a real shame because it really rounds out the show. As it stands, it isn’t nearly as emotional as it could be, but it does make you feel much more for the dying hometown that young Billy leaves behind to pursue his dancing dreams.

All of that said, the cast is very good and the show is in pristine, opening night shape. With two exceptions, the principal cast does a decent job of gelling like a real family, albeit one lost without a mother/wife to anchor it. Daniel Jenkins does a nice job as the father who must choose between the survival of his family and the demands of his community. While he lacks the variety of Tony winner Gregory Jbara’s passive aggressive performance, he does choose a few key moments to lighten the mood and endear us to him. Similarly (like father like son?), Patrick Mulvey as Billy’s older brother is a seething mass of anger who does his best work when he is trying to keep his angst in check, rather than when he is screaming his lines or lashing out physically. And there are the mildly warm moments that color the performance of Katherine McGrath, who otherwise depends on the vulgarity written into her role as Grandma. Is she suffering from the early stages of dementia, or is she just a crude old lady? There are a few times you actually care - chiefly during her flashback/fantasy song, “Grandma’s Song.” Otherwise, she’s a sweet, crusty, nut job of an old gal. And, despite my seemingly negative tone, it actually works. Why? Because the family that yells, screams and hits each other and still somehow manages to make you feel for and root for them must be doing something right.

Extreme! Billy Elliot's Daniel Jenkins and Patrick Mulvey

But it is the work of the two actors who play the main characters that truly elevates this show. Tony nominee Emily Skinner is absolute perfection in the role of Mrs. Wilkinson, the harsh, chain-smoking dance teacher stuck in the sticks, her dreams of dancing long in the past. In spite of her litany of barbs, stinging retorts and downright rude public evaluations of her charges, you can see just enough of a glint in her eye that she cares about those little girls, wanting only that months down the road they can put a decent ballet for their hardworking parents. She loves what she does, but she wants more. The undercurrent of sadness that is part of every song in the score really comes to the fore under the skilled interpretation of Ms. Skinner. Perhaps the best part of her Tony-worthy performance, though, is the palpable and heartwarming chemistry between her and Myles Erlick as Billy Elliot. Their relationship starts out as a sparring match, and with these two it is a compelling and evenly matched fight. Slowly, they come to respect one another, and ultimately love each other. Although it goes unsaid, there are two moments that would bring even the stoniest patron to tears: first, when Billy shares his mum’s letter with his teacher (Ms. Skinner's reactions throughout will make you ache), and second, when he returns to thank her for getting him into the Royal Ballet School. Their eyes meet and you see the very best teacher-student respect and mother-son love. With Erlick and Skinner, you can see, and, more importantly, FEEL that the two complete each other.

"Shine": Emily Skinner (center) as Mrs. Wilkinson

At age 13, Mr. Erlick is the 15th Broadway Billy, and he does not come across at all like someone so far removed from the original. This kid has it all, and you will be most fortunate if it is his name on the program insert when you go. He is a superb actor, where every move, facial expression and word he utters comes across so real, so honest, so of-the-moment. He sings sweetly and his acting is of a quality one might expect from a much older person. It is his youthful exuberance and true joy when he dances, though, that really elevates his performance. His “Angry Dance” is electric and his “Electricity” is awesome (kudos, too, to Stephen Hannah as older Billy). Thank the musical theatre gods above, that Ms. Skinner and Mr. Erlick have a lot of stage time together. Indeed, they have enough emotional heft, dazzling musical skills and amazing chemistry that one can almost forgive the other issues with the show itself.

Myles Erlick as Billy Elliot

For a show that is three years old, it is in remarkable shape, due in large part to the gifted supporting company that takes on multiple roles per actor, ranging from town constables to riot police, to common town folk. Their chemistry, including the heart-stopping finale, is the icing on this complex musical cake.

Still, there is one thing has kept this terrific musical from being a truly great musical: inconsistency.

The Book: Lee Hall's book, based upon his screenplay from the film, can't seem to decide what should be its focus.  Is it the Thatcher-era politics and the miner's strike?  Is it social commentary on the state of things in Britain?  Or is it Billy's rise and departure from the dying town that has gathered its resources one last time to send him to school?  It works best when there is a balance; scenes of poverty, despair and the town coming together, juxtaposed next to scenes of Billy growing and eventually outgrowing the same town.  But then the book goes into fantasy mode - Grandma's past, Billy's future, Michael's present.  It is these same sets of scenes and the fantasy sequences that are equally inconsistent in terms of staging.

Myles Erlick and Company

The Staging:  Peter Darling and Stephen Daldry combine several times to stage absolutely brilliant, moving moments.  The extended scene of Billy's progress from novice to accomplished dancer is an exercise in economy, focus and storytelling.  The scene which includes "Solidarity" is an extended sequence of brilliance where the worlds of art and economy collide, come together, overlap and separate.  The moments where the miners act as the "barre" for the ballet girls, and when the miners and police dance together, are some truly excellent examples of the fusion of story, theme and high concept.  But then there are the jarring scenes that play like sit-com romps (the exchange between dad and the Ballet School secretary) and still others that remind me of those old after school specials (the fact that Mum exists as a character). 

Lastly, and this opinion of mine has caused me more than one heated argument, those fantasy sequences thrill me, save one.  I love the fantasy of all the different "Grandpas" drinking, harassing, loving and dancing with Grandma as she reflects on her past.  And the Billy-meets-his-future-self dance/flying sequence is breathtaking.  Both are dark, smoky, and profound.  Then there is the fantasy of Michael, whose dream of fully expressing himself turns into a razzle-dazzle follies style number.  It comes out of nowhere, and it matches not one other moment in the show.  Sure, it makes Michael stick out, and the kid who plays him, Cameron Clifford, is a charmer, full of talent.  But does it make him stick out in the right ways?  Aren't we laughing AT it?  Aren't we applauding the silver streamer curtain and the fake proscenium and not him?  And why does he have to pander to the audience for applause?  The only other time the fourth wall is broken is at the curtain call.  It sticks out inappropriately.  Even the song doesn't match the rest of the score, which is also inconsistent.

Cameron Clifford with Michael's wardrobe

The Score: Who am I to quibble with a score by the great Elton John?  Nobody.  I'm just a patron of the show.  Sometimes, the songs fit the mood and situation, especially the local flavor of the miner's songs like "The Stars Look Down," "Deep Into the Ground," and "Once We Were Kings."  And the "Solidarity" and "Shine" sequences are nearly perfect all the way around.  But then there are the songs that try way too hard like "Angry Dance" and "Electricity."  The former, too much of a good thing, the latter, lyrically (lyrics by Lee Hall) simple to the point of trite.

Like everything about it, Billy Elliot is a study in dichotomy.  What is good is truly superb.  Brilliant, even.  What doesn't work really doesn't work, ranging from forced to unnecessarily campy (the embarrassing confrontation between Dad and the adult ballet dancer.  Really?).  Even the potrayal of very clearly anti-Thatcher politics is uneven - the subtle, silent commentary of the men seated in those hard chairs at the town meeting hall, versus the too-much-by-a-mile "Merry Christmas, Maggie Thatcher."  The social commentary, particularly with the children participating, is jarring in the very best ways, but the song, and the way too much mugging for attention by the adults, kills a ten minute sequence that should take less than five.  Somehow, the children make the bitter point, while the adults add nothing but excess, which in turn diminishes the sharpness of the satire.  Less can be so much more - just look at the sweet simplicity of Billy's goodbye with Michael.  It is what isn't said or done that makes the scene so poignant.

Yes, less can be so much more.

(Photos by Joan Marcus.)


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3.037
Jeff

REVIEW: Death Takes a Holiday

Review of the matinee preview performance on Saturday, July 16 at the Laura Pels Theatre off-Broadway in New York City.  Starring Linda Balgord, Matt Cavenaugh, Mara Davi, Simon Jones, Rebecca Luker, Julian Ovenden, Jill Paice, Michael Siberry, Alexandra Socha, Don Stephenson, and Max Von Essen.  Book by Peter Stone and Thomas Meehan.  Music and lyrics by Maury Yeston.  Musical staging by Peter Pucci.  Direction by Doug Hughes.  2 hours, 15 minutes, including intermission.

Grade: A+

Like a refreshing, cool glass of freshly squeezed lemonade, Death Takes a Holiday goes down pretty smoothly: sweet and tart at the same time, with little bits to chew on before the whole drink is gone.  The musical, based on a play by Alberto Cassella (American translation by Walter Ferris), may, at first blush, seem hardly a candidate for a joyful summer's night of theatre.  It is, after all, about Death taking human form to see why the rest of us fear and loathe him.  His "holiday" from the job is here chronicled as he joins a family at their Italian villa, post World War I.  These are a wealthy, international bunch, in a war-weary world coming to terms with the Great War's outcomes.  Given the state of the world today, it isn't much of a stretch to see how the show might apply to its audience.  Yes, the musical makes us pause (ever so slightly) to contemplate our own mortality - maybe just enough to re-check our "bucket lists" to make very sure that "falling in love" is on it.  Our two hours together will be spent with an eye to the future, with families to appreciate and lives to live.

That the late Peter Stone and the very much alive Thomas Meehan have concocted perhaps one of musical theatre's tightest, fat-free books in decades is reason enough to run to the Laura Pels Theatre and snatch up whatever tickets remain.  But these masters of the art form (collectively they are responsible for 1776, Annie, The Producers and Titanic, among others) have created an even better reason to rush the box office:  their book resonates with an unabashed joy for life, a sense of humor that runs from the charmingly silly to the thoughtfully witty, and all with a sharp poignancy that leaves you feeling a high so rare in the theatre these days.  It is not just a laugh fest, nor is it trying to be "important."  It is a simply remarkable, thought-provoking, and wonderfully entertaining show.

Add yet another American musical master to the mix and the potential for brilliance is that much greater.  When it comes to smart, sharp lyrics that are simultaneously brain food and easily digestible words of wisdom, there really is no one better suited to this romantic chamber musical than the great (and woefully underappreciated) Maury Yeston.  Fans of his work, myself included, marvel at his sense of the grander ideas as well as the smaller notions that represent human nature.  We appreciate that his lyrics can take a very specific situation and make it universal, and our ears perk up at his lush, soaring melodies, just as we tingle and smile at his catchier tunes.  Here is a man who has given the world his own Phantom, Nine, Grand Hotel and Titanic.  If the latter on that list proved that anything could be turned into a musical, Death Takes a Holiday proves the same profound, innately sad topic can sing on a smaller, more humorous scale and still pack an emotional punch, without leaving us a depressed mess at the curtain call.

"In the Middle of Your Life"/

"Nothing's Happened"

I will say now, and I suspect other reviews will bear me out on this: this show is not for everyone.  It thrives on a very carefully calculated and heady mix of modern musical know-how and an old school - and I don't mean the 60's or 70's - style of theatre.  Director Doug Hughes and choreographer Peter Pucci set the tone immediately as the gauzy grand drape rises and the principal cast assembles on a foggy stage to create a small omnibus made simply of chairs and pantomimed steering; the cast moves from side to side as the car takes each turn, and they occasionally bounce in their seats as the bumpy road dictates.  Their songs, "In the Middle of Your Life" and "Nothing Happened," pointedly and joyfully take us from the thrill of unexpected love to the instant guilt associated with an accident, only to feel the rush of relief as, miracle of miracles, no one is hurt, not even a young, lovely woman who is thrown from the car.  Unable to explain this happy turn of events, they reassure each other and convince themselves that, indeed, nothing happened.  In this scene, one also becomes instantly aware that despite the modern staging, the acting and the very characters are painted with an oddly broad stroke.  Every gesture is large, every emotion even larger.  The actors seem to speak with an affectation rather than a genuine tone, and the humor and pathos seem equally big and obvious.  In short, our eyes are watching a very 21st century staging, but our ears are picking up a very early 20th century sensibility.  There are, throughout the entire show, moments like this.  Simple ideas are simply presented and blown out of proportion as musicals will do. 

Don't be fooled, either.  The brilliance is in the details, the undercurrents and the universal themes.  These moments are also not hard to find - remember I said this show goes down smoothly.  But it is the sometimes jarring juxtaposition of the two styles that makes this a show not necessarily for everyone.  It requires an audience to enjoy a modern staging like the opening scene.  And it requires an audience to accept broadly drawn types - wealthy but distraught parents still mourning the loss of their son to the war, a flighty, ethereal sister/daughter in love with being in love, an older generation of people who have had an unrequited love for each other for decades, the young upstart guy worried that he won't fit in, the pair of moderns, one dancing life away, the other desperate to grow up, and the dashing young war hero who revels in his heroism even as he questions his own mortality.  To top it all off, it requires an audience to listen.  To fully appreciate this gem, one must listen closely to not only the broad strokes and broader jokes, but to the details revealed in witty, sophisticated conversations and the occasional solo number.  That is asking a lot of an audience, but, trust me here, the rewards for your full attention pay off and handsomely.  Both Mr. Hughes and Mr. Pucci are to be commended for finding this difficult balance and staging it so crisply and deeply throughout the entire course of the show.

"Shimmy Like They Do in Paree"

Yeston's score is full of wonderful ballads, like the touching "Losing Roberto," where a mother is unwittingly telling Death himself why the loss of her son is so completely devastating, or the soaring act one closer, "Alone Here with You," where a young woman is professing her love to Death.  There are the clever and jaunty numbers that open each act, "Nothing's Happened" and "Something's Happened."  And the dance-y "Shimmy Like They Do in Paree," where a Modern shows Death the joy that being happy brings to life.  And there is the song "Finally to Know" where all three young ladies of the cast sing of what it is to finally understand and appreciate love.  It is the best number of the show (which is no small feat, strong as this score is), and is instantly on my list of the best musical theatre songs of all time.  I wanted so badly to stand up at the end of this number to show my appreciation: the performance and the content were blissfully superior to pretty much everything I've seen in recent years.

The world created onstage for Death Takes a Holiday is much like the show itself, simple and straightforward, yet magical and complex.  And all of it with a witty sophistication that is also subtle and elegant.  Derek McLane's setting is a large open space, with marbled floors, tall Roman columns and archways made entirely of flowered vines and twinkling lights.  In the distance, at times, one can see a distant shore and the Mediterranean.  Kenneth Posner's lighting design matches the set and the show perfectly, alternating real life lighting (and considerable shadows when appropriate) with more romantic, fantasy-like lighting.  And Catherine Zuber's exquisite costumes reveal, even at a quick glance, much about the characters.  I mused that if this were a silent film, with only the visual aesthetic provided by these designers and some underscoring (amazing and beautiful orchestrations by recent Tony winner Larry Hochman), one could still follow the story with ease.

All of this first-rate work would be for naught without this superbly cast ensemble.  Even the smaller servant roles (Jay Jaski, Patricia Noonan, Joy Hermalyn) are expertly played, especially and noticeably during the company numbers.  As the majordomo and confidante to the man of the house, Don Stephenson manages to milk every laugh he can from his funny, if obvious role.  (Remember, I said these roles were, on the surface, types.)

TOP: The Servants

BOTTOM: Matt Cavenaugh

In a small but pivotal role as war hero and friend to the deceased Roberto, Matt Cavenaugh provides the swagger and machismo to go along with his matinee idol looks.  His very telling ballad - "Roberto's Eyes" - soars to the rafters as he belts and emotes in a way I've never seen him do before, and the effect is spell-binding.  He also plays older brother to the younger "Modern," Daisy, played with a refreshingly coy and playful air by Alexandra Socha, who once again proves that her star is on the rise.  When she is onstage, one can't help but be captivated by her take on this brash, flirtatious woman-child.  Her charms work more on us than they do her intended catch, Corrado, played by Max Von Essen.  For years I have heard what a great actor this guy is, and I have always managed to miss him.  It was well worth the wait, and all of the hearsay is true.  This guy has "it."  He manages to take the role of the often clueless and jilted lover and play all of his angst and anger without being annoying.  He is a commanding presence, another actor you find yourself drawn to whenever he is onstage.  His duet with Miss Socha, "What Do You Do," is all the more charming because these two are singing it.  The younger set in the cast is rounded out by the terrifically energetic Mara Davi, the American gal with her finger on the pulse of pop culture, and tempered by the wisdom that comes from heartbreak at an early age - her character is the widow of Roberto.  It is this wisdom that provides the first inkling that there are darker forces at play in this otherwise silly romp.

Alexandra Socha, Max Von Essen, Mara Davi and Julian Ovenden

The oldest generation is sweetly represented by two wonderful actors, Simon Jones and Linda Balgord.  Both play the eldest inhabitants of the villa with a smarts that only aged wisdom can bring, and with a wonderfully youthful take on love during the twilight years.  Their duet, "December Time," is simply charming.  The parents of Roberto and their younger daughter Grazia, are played by Michael Siberry and Rebecca Luker, and both are given meaty roles to work with.  He plays the comedy and the tragedy of the situation he is in (he knows Death is here and isn't allowed to tell a soul or someone will die) with a grace and dignity that makes this implausible turn of events completely believable without being too giddy or too maudlin.  Ms. Luker plays the worried mother with enough nuance that she steers far from being a soap opera-ish matriarch, and when she finally gets to unleash her glorious voice and considerable acting talents in "Losing Roberto," we all feel her grief as if it were our own personal tragedy.

TOP: Julian Ovenden and Linda Balgourd

CENTER: Julian Ovenden and Simon Jones

BOTTOM: Rebecca Luker and Michael Siberry

I have waited, literally for years, to find out why the rest of the theatre world is so smitten with Jill Paice.  I've seen her several times and have appreciated her work, but never really understood the overall appeal.  With her performance here, I can finally see what all the fuss is about.  As the young lady in love with love (and the object of Death's affection), Ms. Paice expertly navigates the treacherous waters of this role which requires her to fanciful, stubborn, drunk with love, and in the depths of despair as she faces an impossible life-changing choice.  Her role is written with some of the broadest strokes, and it is to her credit that she never once goes for the easy, overblown way of conveying these huge emotions.  A lesser actress would overplay, where Paice chooses carefully when to wear her heart on her sleeves, when to play it close to the vest, and most interestingly, when to be more subtle.  And what a voice!  Her solo  numbers, including "How Will I Know," are skillfully and beautifully rendered.  But it is her work with her co-star that is at the heart of this show, and their chemistry and marvelously blended voices make each of their scenes and duets incredibly pleasing to the heart and ear.

Julian Ovenden and Jill Paice

"Death" - Julian Ovenden

Much has been written lately about the show's star, Julian Ovenden, a Brit, whose American star is born with this amazing once-in-a-lifetime performance.  He is nothing short of spectacular in every sense that he could be.  He is as dynamic as he is handsome, charming as he is enigmatic, and mesmerizing, even when you know you shouldn't be this drawn to the character.  The man has it all: perfect comic timing, a beguiling romanticism, a sexy allure, a childlike sense of wonder, and joie de'vivre that is utterly captivating.  Thankfully, the character he plays must also have these qualities!  And his voice!  Oh, his voice.  What an instrument.  His solo in act one, "Alive," is a joyful tour-de-force, and each of his ballad duets with Ms. Paice is just stunning. 

But it is his act two solo, "I Thought I Could Live," that is the real culmination of his role, when he, Death, begins to understand why humans fear him, and why they don't want to give up on life.  It is a stunning turning point for both character and plot, and it is so wonderfully rendered.  Ultimately, it is the point at which everything spirals into the show's conclusion.  And one can safely say that Ms. Paice and Mr. Ovenden's performances are what make the ending a nail-biter right up until the end.  Even if you go in knowing, the final moments of this musical will have you on the edge of your seat and holding your breath.

I suspect that once this show's New York life is over (and I hope it will be some time before that happens) this show will find itself as a staple in regional and local theatres.  It is one set, with a small cast of actors that range in age from 20's to 70's.  And it seems so simple.  And that is what I fear most about this show's future.  Without a director that understands the demands and styles of the book or a cast that is fully on board with playing a variety of styles within one performance, the show may come off either as a silly trifle or an oddity.  And that would be a true shame.  Death Takes a Holiday, the musical, isn't for everyone, probably, but for this theatergoer, it is that rare perfection of art and entertainment as one intertwined piece.

(Photos by Joan Marcus)

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Jeff
2.328

REVIEW: Spider-Man: Turn Off the Dark

Review of the June 29 matinee preview performance at the Foxwoods Theatre on Broadway in New York City. 2 hours, 30 minutes, including one intermission. Starring Matthew James Thomas, Jennifer Damiano, Patric Page, T.V. Carpio, Michael Mulheren, Isabel Keating, and Laura Beth Wells. Music and Lyrics by Bono and The Edge. Book by Julie Taymor, Glenn Berger and Roberto Aguirre-Sacasa.  Ariel Choreography and Choreography by Daniel Ezralow, Additional choreography by Chase Brock.  Original Direction by Julie Taymor.  Creative Consultant Philip Wm McKinley.

Grade: B-

I can't believe I am actually writing this review after blogging about Spider-Man: Turn Off the Dark since August 31, 2009!  It was the subject of my second blog ever, and so it is with a sense of history and a feeling that I have, in a way, suffered the journey with the company that I write this.  You have no idea how badly I want to be able to rave about this production.  There are certainly some rave-worthy elements, but there is one element of the show which seriously holds me back. 

That said, this review will not chronicle the myriad of changes that show has gone through - having witnessed the "birth," the difficult "teens" and now the final, "all grown up version" - I certainly could, and with first-hand knowledge.  Perhaps in another blog, when I've had time to fully digest what I've seen over the last 8 months.  Instead, I am going to attempt to review this show as it stands today without comparison to previous versions.  Two caveats to this: first, I have seen Reeve Carney in previous viewings, and I saw Matthew James Thomas this time, so I will offer a comment or two in comparison; and second, I will likely have to note the remnants of Julie Taymor's vision that I can recognize within this newer, "re-imagined" version.

Spectacle! Spectacle!: Big sets, bright lights

and a cast of thousands

First things first.  Like Cats and Starlight Express well before it, Spider-Man is not "just" a spectacle as has been reported, nor is it "just" a musical.  It is a hybrid of both forms, and succeeds marvelously as a spectacle and reasonably well as a musical.  The entirety of the "spectacle" aspect of the show lays firmly and surely in the hands of the mistress of spectacle, Julie Taymor, and her team of designers.  Together they have created a mind-blowing visual treat that both astonishes and provokes thought.  Ms. Taymor's key visual moments have remained largely intact.  Chief among these moments is the breathtaking "The Myth of Arachne."  It is absolutely, jaw-droppingly stunning to watch as her story unfolds and her swinging minions chant her story as a giant weaving is created before our eyes.  There are also the signature Taymor masks, grotesque as they are humorous, in this case capturing the silliness of comic book criminals - small time and ridiculous.  Then there are the more psychological moments that capture both the mind and the heart, such as when Arachne (T.V. Carpio) releases Peter from her tutelage, allowing him to make his own choices, all while alerting him to dangers ahead; she reassures him he has all it takes to "turn off the dark," both in his inner turmoil and the darkness that has descended over New York City.  In that scene, Arachne and Peter (asleep and dreaming) float high above in an infinite, star-filled space, slowly spinning around, over and under each other as though actually weightless.  It was a relief that this new version retained the striking visual elements and a fair amount of the emotional and psychological heft of earlier versions.  This despite reports that the show has now been dumbed down to the lowest common denominator.

The other aspects of the visual spectacle are as amazing as they are ground-breaking, with each technical designer setting a new high bar for theatrical possibility.  Both the set designer (George Tsypin) and costume designer (Eiko Ishioka) have created a spectacular "other world New York City" and in doing so pay homage to the classic form of comic book art and modern, high tech electronica.  The two very disparate forms work seamlessly together here, as the story of Peter Parker and Mary Jane Watson literally unfolds before us, in giant set pieces that look like cartoon drawings, from the fold-down, pop-up book style of the high school, to the walk home through the streets of Queens, where the perspective continuously changes and the two dimensional drawings fold and unfold like comic book origami, ultimately revealing 2D/3D versions of homes. 

Perhaps, most interestingly, it is the human story that gets the comic book treatment - the newspaper office, full of black and white pieces of overtly skewed and forced perspective, and even the bad seed of Midtown High's car.  And in those scenes, the characters' costumes at first glance look modern, but are edged and "shadowed' with black "sketch streaks"; and everything there is also slightly askew and out of proportion, with 40's style hats, gangsterish zoot suits, and extreme hair (spiked hair is absurdly colored and tall, pin curls are as big as paper towel tubes, pompadours are laughably huge).  Yes, just like in comic book reality, here "reality" is ever so gently over-sized and mildly over the top.

Mixed perspective:

large scale, but with pinpoint clarity

The high tech stuff all goes toward our villains and our superhero.  A scary possible (thus easily understood) future in science is presented to us - just real enough that we can buy it, and just crazy enough that we want to believe men can fly on cobwebs and DNA tinkering can lead to cross-species creatures.  And all of it is done with out-sized, but not really askew 3D set pieces, like a giant test tube, a huge Plexiglas observation chamber, and a very high tech orb that makes its occupants, when strapped in, resemble daVinci's drawings of man in a circle.  Here, too, Tsypin's designs take on a reality and much less of a comic book look, albeit with dizzying forced perspective: the Brooklyn Bridge comes out towering above us as Mary Jane dangles, screaming for her life; the top spire of the Chrysler Building comes tearing out of the floor, then later becomes the floor as the back wall becomes the city street with ant-sized traffic.  And there is the terrifying and simple giant tubes and bridges that make up Doctor Osborne's fantastic laboratory.  Similarly, Ishioka's costumes become 3D to the extreme, no "pencil lines and shadings" in sight.  Between the Green Goblin's final form and the Sinister Six (nasty offspring of the Goblin's, borne of revenge, fear and anger) you can see where a few million of the huge budget went.

And just as the set and costume designers have created two worlds that collide and coexist, lighting designer Donald Holder and projection designer Kyle Cooper have lit up these worlds.  The "real life"/comic book look is supported by lighting that is overly bright or creepily shadowy, depending on the mood at the moment, and extreme at both ends of the emotional spectrum.  At its darkest moments, all of New York is seen through dim shafts of light; as its impending doom is on the horizon, bright cautionary yellow gives way to blood red.  The side projection screen/set pieces reflect a simplistic view of nameless skyscrapers by simply being towering walls of empty, generic windows.  Fittingly, these are the times when actors are followed by simple spotlights and conventional lighting does the job.  And then, as all hell breaks loose, and our super villain and his cronies emerge to create worldwide havoc, the giant screens slide across the stage in what feels like endless permutations while showing us Jumbo-Tron sized images of "news reels" with CNN-style headline crawlers and startling visual images.  And as the final showdown between Spider-Man and his arch nemesis inevitably approaches, it is the Green Goblin who makes use of the gadgetry, while Spider-Man steels himself and gathers strength in simple pools of light and a comic drawing of an apartment.  Even Peter Parker's epic emotional moments happen on the barest stage or on the simplest set piece - a fire escape dangling peacefully over a miniature skyline and against a backdrop of pin light stars.  It is the ultimate in theatrical design dichotomy: old-school simplicity vs. an overwhelming look at the future of set and costume design.  We may never see anything like this again.

The up-close realism of villainy

vs

The enormity of infinity circles and

a large bridge dwarfing reality

The story, too, has a dual edge to it: simple comic book style dialogue and a mostly witty, modern day self-deprecating snarkiness about it.  The book is credited to Julie Tamor, Glen Berger and Roberto Aguirre-Sacasa.  Clearly, the more psychologically dense moments (mostly involving Arachne and Peter's struggle with power and personal gain versus responsibility) are Taymor and Bergers.  I am pleased to report that these moments are now framed by Aguirre-Sacasa's exposition scenes and knack for writing snatches of dialogue that are truly in comic book style. (He has actually written some Spider-Man comic books and it shows.)  A closer look at the book scenes, and likely a decent amount of the staging, will probably show single ideas spoken in snatches of 3 or 4 or 6 "frame" bits of dialogue, just like you would read in an actual comic book.  A decent amount of the dialogue, too, tells us plot points rather than showing us, while montages of action scenes propel the story forward.  And the dialogue includes decidedly obvious bon mots and platitudes, as well as the often funny quips yelled out by a flying Peter Parker/Spider.  These are the hallmark of the "story by" authorship of comic book writing, and SMTOTD craftily sneaks this in.

So how is the story?   It, too, is a hybrid of sorts, a collision of the comic book mythology of this superhero, a modern teen-thriller-romance (all the rage today), and the recognizable elements audiences expect to see from the popular film series.  The classic story of how Peter becomes Spidey, the romance between Parker and MJ, the creation of the Green Goblin are all comic book elements brought to life for the fan boys.  The tween girls (and the gay fan boys) will love the Twilight-ish feel of the romance - minus the obligatory shirtless Peter Parker, much to the disappointment of some, especially after Mr. Thomas peels back his sleeves to reveal very impressive "guns".  And film fans, as well as the alarming number of very small children in attendance (average age 6, I'd guess) will thrill to the flying and frequent Spidey-in-the-aisles sightings, as well as the signature upside down kiss and "with great power comes great responsibility" morality pledge from the film series.  Being a fan of all of that, I am willing to admit, that even the third time seeing it, the flying (designed by Scott Rogers, Jaque Paquin and choreographed by Daniel Ezralow) remains some of the most exciting things I've ever witnessed live.  It is an absolute thrill.  And the added sequences are marvelous, especially Peter's "victory lap" around the theatre, mask-less and beaming with love and heroism.  And, having seen the earlier incarnation, I can say that calling it a "dumbed down version" is ridiculous.  It still has serious themes, clever story-telling, and thought-provoking issues.  But it also has become more accessible, gaining a sense of humor (much of which goes over the little kids' heads - I bet a Tuesday night, mostly adult audience responds with more laughter), and a clarity of storytelling that allows the emotion and humanity of the story come shining through.  Understandability does not mean it is intellectually lesser now.  And remember, too, it is a COMIC BOOK story, not a Dickens novel.

Go get 'em, Tiger!

MJ loves her superhero boyfriend!

Nor, unfortunately, is it a Sondheim musical, an Elton John musical or even a Wildhorn musical.  And here is my biggest (pretty much only) peeve with the show.  Yes, they addressed the storytelling, but not all of the culprits were put in check.  The score, by Bono and The Edge, is as frustrating and unsatisfying an entity as I have ever heard.  The Spider Man Theme, repeated MANY times throughout, and some other underscoring proves these men can write decent, emotion-packed music.  I think they'd be quite successful scoring a James Bond film, where only one decent song is required for radio play.  But I think it says a lot that the lowest points remaining in this much improved, but still flawed show all occur during their songs.  This is not to say there aren't high points - there are several songs in the score that work with the story that are poetic and beautiful to boot.  What does it mean, though, when you consider the very public history of this show, that the same songs that worked during preview 7 are the same ones that work at performance 16, and the rest still stink?  It says to me that the other huge problem with 1.0 was never addressed.  The result, as I said, is a frustrating score, a few times truly brilliant - "Rise Above," "If the World Should End," and "Boy Falls from the Sky" are amazing songs both in and out of the theatre. And the one really new song, "A Freak Like Me," is a funny, fun to watch Lady Gaga meets Thriller concoction.  A couple other songs work well in context, but are instantly forgettable after the scene is over - "Bullying By Numbers," "Bouncing Off the Walls."  The rest are as overwrought and pretentious as the names "Bono" and "The Edge."  (Do they really think U2 fans are dropping everything to see this show?  Get real.)  And despite the fact that the book now provides a clear, decent plot to support "DIY World," it is still a creepy, ugly song, as is the truly disturbing "Pull the Trigger," which comes perilously close to recreating those Nazi get-togethers Hitler used to orchestrate with marching minions goose stepping all over the place.  Ick.  Above average underscoring and a couple of decent songs might work for Cirque de Soleil, but not for a Broadway musical, newly "family friendly" or not.

Still, I will end this review on the positive.  The entire company deserves the standing ovations they are receiving for surviving and thriving; no other cast has worked this hard for this long.  And their performances, forgive the obvious pun here, always rise above the holes in the plot and the weak musical numbers.  The dozen or so "Spider-Men" live up to the character's "Amazing" moniker, each and every one a terrific athlete, acrobat and dancer.  Bravo, men, and congratulations!  The supporting roles, now meatier, are also well-played, particularly the nasty bad boy, Flash, as played by Luther Creek, and the humble father figure, Uncle Ben, played with interesting spunk by Ken Marks. With more to do now, both do nice work.  And the always terrific Isabel Keating, who plays Aunt May, gives the show its warm, loving center.  She is absolutely sweet.  And Michael Mulheren, who clearly understands the comic book milieu, is a robust, supercilious J.J. Jameson, newspaper man, tale spinner and tabloid guru.

T.V. Carpio as Arachne,

the world's first singing spider

Even though she is in a much diminished role, T.V. Carpio exudes an exotic, mysterious and mildly erotic presence that reaches all the way to the back wall of the balcony as Arachne.  She has a lovely voice, hindered only by the one area of sound design that apparently hasn't been fixed.  The real issue may be the songs she sings, though, as they are written in a difficult, soprano key and are full of slides and trills reminiscent of Middle Eastern chants.  Sure, they sound exotic, but what good are they if you can't understand the words?  It is not her fault in the least, and that is apparent in the fact that, despite not being able to understand fully her songs, she still registers a very strong presence.

He's a freak of mutated nature!

He's the Green Goblin!

Patrick Page is the King of Broadway Villainy, with the Green Goblin completing his evil guy trilogy (the Grinch and Scar before this).  He is clearly having fun as the Green Goblin, and now seems to really be enjoying the opportunity to play some genuine emotions now in a beefed up role that allows him to show love, compassion and drive (not to mention a sense of right and wrong) which now makes his transformation into the super villain all the more complete, scary and thrilling.

Then there is the central couple, Mary Jane Watson and Peter Parker/Spider-Man.  And even at the 5th preview I attended, Jennifer Damiano has had the role of MJ down pat.  And now that she has so much more to work with, it is wonderful to see a truly talented actress thrive and shine, never once allowing the enormity of what is going on around her take over.  The show never feels bigger than when she is in Peter's arms singing "If the World Should End," and there is never a more clear sense of being on her side than when she is dangling by wrists over a cavernous hole opened on the stage many feet below her.  Her presence, crystal clear voice and intelligent performance are a hallmark of this show, and as someone who has paid now three times to see the show, I am grateful that she makes every penny worth spending.

Jennifer Damiano as Mary Jane Watson

Reeve Carney as Peter Parker/Spider-Man

The same can be said for both of her leading men, primary Peter Parker, Reeve Carney, who does the angst thing to perfection both as an actor and as a singer.  Even at the early preview I saw, he exuded a charm, charisma and serious presence.  I remember thinking, all those months ago, "I can't believe this is his debut!"  At the performance this review is based upon, his alternate, Matthew James Thomas, played the hero.  If you have the good fortune to see one of his performances, do not despair having missed Mr. Carney.  Both are terrific, though I have to admit, there is something about the total sum of Mr. Thomas' portrayal and performance that I prefer over Mr. Carney.  His awkwardness and geekiness are so genuine and heartfelt, you are on his side from the second he clears his throat and stumbles through his oral report on Arachne.  And the guy can SING.  His "Boy Falls from the Sky" and "Rise Above" gave me goosebumps.  And watching his face when he reveals himself to Mary Jane, who then professes her love for Peter Parker AND Spider-Man, made this theatre geek feel optimistic about finding myself a super hero!

When you can't be more positive than negative about a score, how can a musical theatre lover love a show like this?  He can't.  But I really liked the overall experience, and recommend that you see it to feel the thrill of flight and the very edge of modern theatre technology.  The flying, the scenery and the performances make it money well-spent.  I don't regret a single penny or any one of the three times I saw it.  For a theatre lover, watching the process was as much a thrill as seeing it come together.  I'm just sorry I can't love it as much as I want to.


(Photos by Jacob Kohl.  NOTE: There are no official press photos of Matthew James Thomas as Peter Parker/Spider-Man to date.  Reeve Carney appears in the included photos with the Original Broadway Cast)

Comments?  Leave one here, email me at jkstheatrescene@yahoo.com, or Tweet me!
Jeff
2.306

REVIEW: War Horse

Review of the May 14 matinee performance. At the Vivian Beaumont Theatre at Lincoln Center on Broadway, New York City. 2 hours, 45 minutes, including an intermission. A National Theatre of Great Britain Production.  Starring Seth Numrich, Matt Doyle, Peter Hermann, T. Ryder Smith, Boris McGiver, Alyssa Bresnahan, Stephen Plunkett and Madeleine Rose Yen. Based upon the novel by Michael Morpurgo.  Adapted by Nick Stafford in association with the Handspring Puppet Company. Puppet design, fabrication and direction by Adrian Kohler with Basil Jones for the Handspring Puppet Company. Direction by Marianne Elliott and Tom Morris.

Grade: A+

Every time I go to a new production, I hope that it will be an exhilarating, indescribable experience.  Many times, I am exhilarated.  Many times, the experience is indescribable (about 50-50, good-bad).  But it is ever so rare that a theatrical experience leaves me breathless, spent emotionally, and a somehow changed human being from the one I was before the house lights dimmed and a brand new world of human drama unfolded before me.  Until this past Saturday, I could count only four such times in more than a quarter century of theatre going.  The fifth, War Horse, leaves me now, days later, shaking and teary even as I type this, simply at the memory of the event.

The War Horses: Topthorn and Joey

Much has been made of the life-size and life-like horse puppets so stunningly created by The Handspring Puppet Company, and every bit of the praise they have received is warranted.  Pictures simply do not do them justice.  They have elevated stage puppetry to heights unseen since the debut of The Lion King.  Visually, they amaze, amuse and awe.  But perhaps most awesome of all is that once you get used to the way the puppets are manipulated - by three or four puppeteers per "horse" - slowly but surely your mind erases their presence and you start to believe that these are living, breathing beasts, with as much personality and emotional conflict as any of the humans on stage.  Better yet, you stop thinking of them as puppets and go along for the ride as it were.  And for as much accolade, again all deserved, that the puppetry has received, it speaks volumes for the whole production that they are only a part of the entire glorious experience.

Set in Europe during World War I, the play is not so much about the horse and the boy who lovingly and naively follows him into battle, as it is about war itself.  Here we have the ultimate showdown - animal versus machine - in a war that would forever change the way wars are fought.  One side brings the ultimate weapon, a well-trained hand-to-hand combat cavalry; the other brings the new ultimate, machine guns and tanks, not to mention tear gas, trench warfare and the first air support.  It is the pinnacle of the battle between old and new.  And the show depicts these events with frightening clarity and sweeping, breathtaking theatricality.  It is without embarrassment that I confide that I wept openly as horses got tangled in barbed wire, soldiers and their mounts were slain by artillery and gigantic tanks.  I was not alone in weeping for what was lost, but also for the sheer magnitude of the bad that mankind can do to itself.  We are our own worst enemy, and for that I cried like a baby.

(Top) The British Cavalry charges

(Bottom) The German tanks advance

It is a rare thing to see war depicted, though, from both sides of the battlefield.  And it is humbling and embarrassing to think that every single time we are thrust into another global conflict, neither side ever stops to think about the lives at stake or how the people who are actually doing the fighting feel about whatever the battle is about - if they even know.  In War Horse, all of the usual platitudes are used to justify fighting - for the honor of the king, to help our neighbors, and to stave off the enemy from taking away our land and rights.  But what it all really boils down to is quite simple: we fight for causes we do not understand, for leaders who tell us what to do but not why, and that no one on the battlefield wants to die, cause or no cause.  Rarely, though, does any medium portray those parallels of emotion and purpose equally for both sides.  Act one sets up the English side of the war, while act two spends the majority of its time being told from the German side.  It is shameful that it should come as any measure of surprise that the Englishmen and the Germans both hate the war as much as they don't hate the warriors fighting it.  In an absolutely stunningly staged scene in act two, we see two opposing trenches at once, with "no man's land" in between.  Humanity wins out over barbarism as both sides come together to perform a rescue that will forever change the lives of the men in both trenches. 

Two lives saved: Joey and Friedrich (Peter Hermann)

No point of view is left unexamined, even the innocent casualties of war - women and children thrust into battle simply because their home is in the way.  A particularly moving scene takes place between a French woman, her daughter, Emilie, and a German soldier who must commandeer their farm for a triage center (Cat Walleck, Madeleine Rose Yen and Peter Hermann, respectively).  Often these types of scenes involve the predetermined hero, not the bad guy Germans, but this play forces one to see things from the other side frequently and relentlessly.  Watching the German try to justify and apologize to the mother, and later try to restore a sense of hope in the child is moving enough, but ultimately watching that same child bravely face many soldiers with guns in defense of a man who should be her enemy is among the most moving moments of my theatre-going life. 

It is that same extremity of situation that propels the unlikely central story of a boy, his horse, and a several years long journey across a war-torn continent in pursuit of that horse.  The sheer magnitude of World War I and the overwhelming statistics of mortality amongst men and beasts make the likelihood of the boy and horse reuniting seem beyond impossible.  But just as the reality of this tale threatens to bog you down emotionally, you can't help but root for the impossible to happen, anyway.  Whether the impossible does or does not happen, I won't spoil here.  But I will say it is only in the very last seconds of the performance that you find out - this show is a heart pounding ride to the very end.

The puppets aside, Marianne Elliott and Tom Morris have directed this moving tale with such a simplicity and directness that one imagines it would be just as superb on an empty stage, everyone in black and with only mere suggestions of the title character.  The lack of scenery only adds to the grand scale of a play that takes us all over Europe over several years.  A few simple props, moody, effective lighting (by Paule Constable), and a large cast of characters who play roles on both sides, differentiated by their costumes (designed along with the setting and drawings that are projected by Rae Smith) all converge to tell this sweeping tale by focusing us on the people and not the spectacle.  Don't get me wrong, it is a visual feast of theatrical tableau, ever changing perspective and all on a scale that makes Les Miserables look down-right dinky.  But it never overwhelms the story.

A giant torn scrap of paper (so important to the story that to tell why would give away too much) dominates the vast black space of the stage.  On it, we see the sketches drawn by an English Officer, as they evolve from pastoral countrysides to war ravaged towns as the years tick by.  At times, the images are animated so as to give us a sense of how the still life actually was anything but.  The projections by 59 Productions take the use of such a medium on the stage to an entirely new level of sophistication and, perhaps surprisingly, subtlety, for as enormous as this is, it grabs our attention, but doesn't overwhelm the story being told.

Song man and woman: Liam Robinson and Kate Pfafel

The cast of 35 is, to a person, superb.  And while I'd love to single each and everyone out, I will concentrate on the main company or principal roles.  At any given performance a team of 13 actors portray the horses, and a certain very funny goose.  These people are no less than brilliant, so much do they bring to the whole piece.  Liam Robinson and Kate Pfafel are the song man and woman, who provide songs which provide mood and add much to the change in time and place.

I mentioned previously the French mother and daughter, Emilie, played to perfection by Cat Walleck and Madeleine Rose Yen.  Miss Yen's performance, I think, will haunt me for years; such hysterical pleading and such honest emotion are so rarely successfully portrayed by adult actors, let alone such a very young lady.  As the British lieutenant who brings Joey (the war horse of the title) into the war, Stephen Plunkett, delivers a sharp performance that walks the line between soldier and caring human being.  The same can be said for his German counterpart, as played by Peter Hermann.  Mr. Hermann's performance is another marvel of economy punctuated by poignant gestures and rapid fire outbursts, as he tries to hide his identity and save his own life.  David Pegram as Albert's best friend in the trenches offers several very welcomed light moments, making his demise all the more upsetting.

David Pegram, Seth Numrich, Joey,

Topthorn, Madeleine Rose Yen and Peter Hermann

War is certainly hell in War Horse, but home life isn't all that much better, as sacrifices are continually made just for a community to survive.  And no one in the central family disappoints, either.  Matt Doyle (Spring Awakening, Bye Bye Birdie) gives his most mature performance to date as the cocky cousin of the hero of the story.  He sees war as just another thing you do to keep the family name in good stead, a trait drilled into him by his father (gamely played by T. Ryder Smith), a former war hero, who never lets anyone forget that he is a veteran, as he limps around town wearing his medals and lording over everyone.  When push comes to shove, however, the son doesn't exactly follow in the father's brave footsteps.  The main family is as broken as the community in which it lives, as they struggle to make ends meet.  The father, ruggedly played by Boris McGiver, is the one who stayed behind during the last war, an embarrassment to the family, even though his actions on the home front kept the family home in the family.  The result of such public and familial scorn makes him turn to drink, and as the town drunk, little is expected and little is what he delivers.  Alyssa Bresnahan, as the long-suffering wife and mother, bravely keeps things going, even as she has to be the one to beg the bank not to take her home away, all while she struggles to raise her son, Albert.

(Top) Matt Doyle and T. Ryder Smith

(Bottom) Alyssa Bresnahan and Boris McGiver

In what is a brilliant performance of epic scale, just like the play itself, Seth Numrich offers one of the finest portrayals I have ever seen on the Broadway stage.  As Albert, he ages several years, from an awkward, out of place teen to a soldier of remarkable courage.  His role is a complex one, as he must navigate a world war, a broken family and a love for his horse that in lesser hands would seem so improbable that the audience might just check out on his story.  Instead, he brings dignity to a child role that is so rarely present in modern drama, and a strength of character that is clearly all due to internal control, so pitiful is his parental example.  Mr. Numrich, like the play itself, unabashedly wears his heart on his sleeve for the love of his life, the horse Joey.  Just remembering him yell plaintively in the darkness of many a lonely night, "Joey!  Joey, boy, are you there?" brings me to tears.  But, again like the play itself, it is the other events in his life - running away from home, the loss of comrades in arms, and his own near death experience - that build character and subtly change him from boy to man before our very eyes.  His is a stunning, heartbreaking performance.

A boy and his horse:

Seth Numrich and Joey

Really, it is that very co-existence of epic scale of war and the very human scale of life that rules every aspect of this once-in-a-lifetime production.  Whether it is the staging of an entire mounted cavalry unit charging into barbed wire, or a quiet moment between a boy and his horse learning to trust each other, or a fully staged combat scene or a simpler moment between friends in the trenches, War Horse succeeds in a grand way.  War is hell, indeed, but humanity and the spirit of loving something bigger than yourself, is divine.

(Photos by Paul Kolnik)


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Jeff
2.260

REVIEW: Memphis (Film)

Review of the nationwide screening of Memphis: A New Musical on May 3, 2011.  Starring Chad Kimball, Montego Glover, Derrick Baskin, Cass Morgan, J. Bernard Calloway, James Monroe Iglehart and Michael McGrath and the Broadway Cast.  Music by David Bryan.  Book and lyrics by Joe DiPietro.  Choreography by Sergio Trujillo.  Directed for the Stage by Christopher Ashley.  Directed for Film by Don Roy King.  Running time: 2:45, including pre-show documentary and intermission.

GRADE: A

Opera has been doing it for years (live and recorded) and some West End shows, too.  And now, at last, Broadway has joined the cinema revolution with the recent screenings of Memphis.  This is history in the making, folks, and it is a concept I fully embrace.  This screening, at limited screens and at limited times, brings Broadway to the masses if the masses so choose to partake.  The show couldn't be more current (just a year old AND the current Tony-winning Best Musical) making it a draw for true theatre fans all over the country, and at $20 a ticket (plus a small fee), affordable in comparison to the real thing.  By making it a strictly limited engagement at a limited number of theatres, it not only makes the film a "special event,", but it also takes away the fear that it could seriously impact the audience of the show at the Shubert Theatre.  If anything, at least from what I heard people saying during the intermission, it should help it gain some audience on tour and on Broadway.  Why?  Because as great as film is, and this one in particular is pretty darned great, it will never replace the experience of live theatre.  But a close approximation might just light the fire under a few and reignite the fire for people who haven't been in awhile.

There are many advantages to film.  First, as the show was filmed live over several performances, the best of each scene and number can be edited together to create a "definitive edition."  Second, you get a great view, no matter where you sit, and you get to see things that even a front row seat at the theatre doesn't give you, like tight close-ups, focus on reactions by the supporting and ensemble characters, and even sweeping views of the whole stage when important.  Third, with special recognition for film sound designer Matt Kaplowitz, you can hear the orchestra and singers at comparable and notably clearer levels.  The sound literally surrounds you and every lyric, word and note is crystal clear.  And, of course, it drowns out the chatty Cathys that inevitably sit right behind you, running commentary and all.

Of course, there are some disadvantages to film versus live performance; as I said, film will never replace the live theatre experience.  First, film also "tells" you what to look at - you have no choice as to what you are seeing as the film is the only view you get at any given minute.  Second, there is automatically a limit to how much you can react to something. There are no holds for laughs, and, while the audience I attended with applauded freely throughout, there is no chance for really being enthusiastic without clapping yourself into not being able to hear the next scene.  And finally, and perhaps most importantly, you have no live connection going on between cast and audience.  That electric current between the house and the stage is notably absent.  Yes, you can hear the recorded audience react, but it just isn't the same.

There is one aspect of the film that I loved, simply because you can't really do it in a live performance, and there is one thing that inadvertently effects a filmed version of a live show.  What I really loved was in act two, during Huey's TV show, we often saw it as if we were watching our old black and white TVs.  We could see it the way it was meant to be seen, in effect.  The thing that I really didn't like is that with the sound so attuned to the performers, no slack could be cut for breathing loudly and for all those little sounds we make between words and sentences.  Live, it comes off naturally.  HD sound makes it sound odd. 

Fortunately (or unfortunately, as you choose to look at it) this really only effected Chad Kimball, a heavy breather and word-slurrer/gasper/grunter of the highest order.  Because Mr. Kimball is portraying a larger than life character, some license has been given in allowing him to exaggerate speech and physicality, I am sure.  And as he was really performing for a full house in a theatre that is gigantic compared to the multiplex, his performance is notably large.  On film, he comes across sometimes as over acting, and not just eccentric and a little slow, but perhaps mentally challenged as well.  Still, with the balance of everyone around him and some truly beautiful vocal work on his part during the musical numbers, his excesses are easily overlooked.

The rest of the cast comes off exceedingly well.  Montego Glover has starlet written all over her - the camera LOVES her.  Cass Morgan's work on the details of her character are much more evident close up, and the broadness of Derrick Baskin, J. Bernard Calloway, James Monroe Iglehart and Michael McGrath are even more delicious on the big screen.  And the ensemble is vastly talented as they dance and sing in a wide variety of styles as the score calls for.

The film, directed by Don Roy King manages to capture most of the theatricality of Christopher Ashley's stage direction, and leaves me wondering all over again how Sergio Trujillo's spectacular choreography wasn't even nominated for a Tony Award last year.  Memphis is one dancin' extravaganza as this film captures so beautifully.

Soon, this will be available on DVD, and I will buy it.  And I will be attending the filmed version of the New York Philharmonic concert of Stephen Sondheim's Company.  I encourage all of you to do the same.  Supporting this kind of union of two art forms is a win for everyone.

(Photos of the Broadway production by Joan Marcus)


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Jeff
2.252